CT – 238 CORNERSTONE TRAVELER JUNE 10 ‘14

Hi all and welcome to another exciting and thought provoking issue of this bi-weekly newsletter, The CORNERSTONE TRAVELER. Also available online at
www.cornerstonetraveler.com.

mid-Hudson Valley news: There has been much talk, discussion and debate about casinos in New York and more specifically the mid-Hudson region.
Granted these casinos will add tremendously to employment in the construction trades and thousands in casinos and hotels. This was the same thing promised in Massachusetts when casino gambling was proposed about ten years ago. I lived in Salisbury Mass. at the time. Salisbury was considered the playground for the people of the north shore of Massachusetts and naturally Salisbury would have been considered a prime location for a casino.
But the people of Salisbury decided to put it to a vote whether we wanted a casino in our township. Casinos sounded like a good idea to me in the beginning, but upon further reflection I thought about the traffic that bogs down Rte. 1 and Rte. 1A every summer. With a casino it would only get worse, much worse. Also just prior to the vote, Salisbury was suffering through a minor drought. People couldn’t water their lawns, but I knew a casino/hotel would have further exasperated the drought. So I voted against allowing a casino in Salisbury as did a majority of the voters in Salisbury.
I think the residents in a community that are considering a casino, reflect on what had happened in Salisbury Mass.

observations: The Republican Controlled House is going to have an investigative committee to investigate the tragedy of Benghazi. They are doing this, I believe, to further discredit and maybe even humiliate the President and the former Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton. The house Republicans and the Tea Party realize they are slowly losing the support of the American people. So what better way to gain public support then to discredit the President and the Democratic Party?
I actually want this committee meeting because the American people will learn how the Republicans in the House voted to essentially cut the budget requests by the President and the Secretary of State for embassy security by $500,000,000.
If the budget request by the President and the Secretary of State was passed as they wanted, would Benghazi have occurred? I don’t know and neither does the Republican or Tea Party.
Question… Was there any talk of an investigation hearing of the two embassy bombings in Beirut and the bombing of a Marine barracks that took the lives of 240 Marines?
It is something to think about. Don’t you agree?

sports: The Yankees area having a rough go of it these past two weeks and are now 3rd in the AL East with a record of 31-31 and are 6 ½ games back.
The Mets are 5 ½ games back in the NL East with a record of 28-35.
The Rangers are down 3-0 in the Stanley cup playoffs.

other: As with all previous issues of this newsletter, everything printed here is either copyright protected or copyright pending.
The history of P&G’s follows this newsletter from the year 1900 when the building was first constructed to about the mid 1930’s
Following this history is a short story I wrote called The LIBRARY.

Thank-you – Rik McGuire

The History of P&G’s from the Beginning

Travel back more than a century to the spring of 1900 as builder John H. Hasbrouck and his men construct a 50′ by 28′ building on the site of the current P&G’s Restaurant. Look around and begin to imagine.
The first floor features a fountain with water softly falling into a cobblestone basin. The exotic effect is enhanced with darting goldfish and blooming water lilies. Palms set liberally throughout the room, provide an air of privacy for those seated at the groups of small tables. Patrons, dressed in their finest, sit chatting, sometimes courting and enjoying the establishments fine refreshments.
The upper story is a promenade, opened to a full view of sunset over the Shawangunk Mountains. Live music gently eases you from afternoon into evening. Welcome to the ambiance and hospitality of the Casino.
The Casino’s owner, Mr Steen, had correctly envisioned the areas many tourists, summer boarders and trolley passengers stopping to enjoy the unique features of his establishment. The terminal station for the trolley line from Highland is located just across Main Street. It is said that Steen patterned the Casino after the famous Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs.
On June 1, 1900 the Casino was officially opened. That evening “a large number of people enjoyed the ice cream, music and the lovely mountains views.” according to the New Paltz Independent newspaper. Music was provided by a band which included a piano and several other instruments. The Casino soon became famous for Saturday night dances held on the second floor of the open pavilion. It was decorated with flowers and vines suspended from the rafters. The crowds were so large that special late trolley cars were run to accommodate the guests and take the orchestra back to Poughkeepsie.
The electric power shut down at midnight. According to Independent writer Delia Shaw “…the time of closing and the departure of the last trolley (run by electricity) had to be reckoned with, but as was often the case, several folks ‘Missed the Last Trolley’… seems between intermissions the fellows would walk their girls down the street where numerous straw thatched summer houses were located on the banks of the Wallkill River and they were so preoccupied with making love by the light of the silvery moon that they forgot everything.” Shaw continued. “Saturday Nights In New Paltz Became A Legend! There was not a single hitching post available, nor an inch of space under any of the sheds of the five local hotels. The Casino drew people from surrounding towns and they came via hay loads and 4 seated carriages, while some men even walked and carried their dancing shoes. ‘Little Larry,’ the shoeshine fellow, did a landslide business on Sat. Nights! As did all the merchants and the stores open ‘til 9 p.m.”
By 1921 the Casino had changed hands and names, becoming the Blue Crane Inn. Ads of the era read.
The big Night at the Blue Crane Inn
Dancing Every Wednesday and Saturday Evening
In the Chinese Hall-Good Jazzy Music.

The cornerstone of nightlife in New Paltz continued to thrive.
In 1925, after 28 Years of service, the Highland to New Paltz trolley company folded. The demise of the trolley business and the affordability of the automobile meant peoples outings were no longer confined to the trolley’s narrow corridor. They could drive to any village hotel, restaurant, or scenic spot that caught their fancy. Indeed, New Paltz and the Blue Crane Inn lost their captive audience. The Inn, however, continued to accommodate people well into the 1930’s. Other establishments came and went until 1947 when it became Pat and Georges and ultimately was nicknamed the P&G’s that welcomes everybody.

The LIBRARY

My name is Brett Maverick. I recently graduated from the State University of New York, Somewhere with a BA degree in archeology.
I was hired by this small upstate New York Village to be the new librarian in a library that has been around for at least three hundred years. The pay isn’t much. It doesn’t have to be because along with my salary of two hundred and fifty dollars a week, I get the apartment right above the library proper. This apartment is included as part of my salary. This was ideal for the village because they would save many thousands of dollars of my salary for an apartment they couldn’t rent to just anybody because of its access to the library.
Now I know you will ask what an archeology graduate is doing working as a librarian That’s a good question and I will answer as best as I can.
I tried to get a position on any field research teams doing serious archeology, but unfortunately those research teams require an advanced degree. I barely had enough money to pay for my undergraduate studies. Forget about graduate school. Any way it seems the village council was concerned about the buildings past. There were rumors it was built on a sacred nexus to the spiritual world. There were what they called ghostly sightings in and around the library and they became concerned because of the public outcry.
They thought to hire an archeologist who had the wherewithal to investigate the past. Of course my expertise was of the long past. But they thought I was the ideal candidate for the job because of my learned ability to delve into the past.
They explained when I was offered the position that there was a room of uncataloged documents. They wanted me to catalogue them to maybe learn of the spiritual nexus that may have

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been written about in the villages’s early days. I naturally accepted the position because I
needed a good job and I became curious about the areas history going back before the European white man entered the picture.
I spent my days checking books in and out of the library, restocking the shelves , ordering new books and the like. In my off hours when the library was closed, I shuttered myself in the room of uncataloged documents.
It was a long and tedious job. I had to determine the date of each document, the author and the contents of such. In the beginning it was long and tiring then I came upon some early documents that were rolled up that piqued my interest.
It was on parchment that was very brittle to the touch. I knew I had to be careful as I examined the writing on the parchment. I lay it flat on my work table, held flat by two books at each end. I started to copy what was written onto a legal pad well away from the parchment. This required me to roll back and forth on my desk chair from the parchment to my legal pad and back. As you can imagine this was all very tiring and within two hours my eyes were tearing from the needed concentration. I kept my mug of coffee that was always present when I researched anything on a separate table. I dared not bring the coffee mug near my work table, for I might spill a drop onto the parchment. I decided after two hours of painstaking reading and copying I would bring the parchment to Cornell University to use one of their special humidor machines to make the parchment less brittle and more easily handled.
I went directly to Dr. Heathgrows office at Cornell with the parchment in a cardboard tube.
I knew Dr. Heathgrow because I did a summer internship on one of his archeological

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studies of the Mohican tribes on the northern tip of the Finger Lakes. I knew he was impressed with my seriousness and consistency of my work attitude as we dug through the past of old an Mohican tribal site. I was hoping that he would remember my efforts at this archeological site
I went to his secretary’s desk with my cardboard tube with the parchment inside and said. “My name is Brett Maverick and I would like to see Dr. Heathgrow.” I was dressed in my finest pressed jeans with a wrinkle free work shirt.
“Do you have an appointment?” She asked.
“No. But I know Dr. Heathgrow when I worked on an archeological dig with him a few years ago. Could you just ask him if he is willing to meet with Brett Maverick?” I implored.
She just shook her head, picked up her telephone, pressed a button and waited then she said. “There is a Mr. Brett Maverick here to see you Dr. Heathgrow. He has no appointment, but said you might know him.” There was a pause and she said. “Yes sir. I will tell him.”
“Dr. Heathgrow remembers you Mr. Maverick and he will be out in a few minutes. Please take a seat.” The secretary smiled.
“Thank you.” I said as I slumped into an office chair.
A minute or two later his office door opened and Dr. Heathgrow looked in his waiting room, saw me and motioned with his finger to enter his office.
I recognized Dr. Heathgrow immediately. He still had that fine and carefully trimmed gray turning to white beard. And he lost more hair from when I remembered him those few years ago.
I entered his office and he motioned to a chair in front of his desk. I sat down as he had

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motioned.
“What can I do for you Mr. Maverick?” He asked and continued. “It has been a few years.”
“Yes sir.” I said and I held up the cardboard tube. “I am here to ask a favor.”
“Yes Brett. If I can be of help I will. You were one of the best interns I had on an archeological study. I assume you are studying for an advanced degree.” He smiled at me.
I shook my head and explained how I had been hired to be the librarian of a small village library nearby. And I also explained how I needed the scientific use of the university humidor to preserve the parchment in the cardboard tube.
“May I see the parchment?” He asked.
I carefully pulled it out to the tube and lay it upon his work table that was free of any archeological specimens.
“Interesting.” He said. “And how old is this?”
I told him from what I read and copied it was dated around 1688. I also explained how I thought it better if it was subjected to the conditions of one of the university humidors so that I could study the parchment more closely and not worry about it being so brittle.
He looked down upon it with the intensity of the scholar that he was. “Yes.” He said. “I can see how you would want to preserve this parchment. I do have one humidor available, but only for two weeks, maybe three.”
“That should be enough.” I said. “I only want it so I can handle it without fear of destroying it.”

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Dr. Heathgrow nodded and motioned me to follow him. I carefully rolled the parchment back into the cardboard tube and did as he asked. I followed him to the archeological lab where I again removed the parchment from the tube and placed it carefully in a small 1x3x3 foot camber.
After I had done so, Dr. Heathgrow closed the door, turned a few knobs and flipped the on/off switch to on.
“The parchment should be user friendly within a week. But it would be better with two weeks.”
I could only nod and say I would be back within two weeks. I have to admit it was the longest two weeks of my life. I spent the time checking books in and out of the library, stocking the shelves and wondering what the parchment would reveal.

Two weeks later, I drove to Cornell University, I saw Dr. Heathgrow and was with him when he removed the parchment from the humidor. I was pleased that it no longer had that brittle feel to it. Dr. Heathgrow examined what was written upon it, stood up and said. “This is a most important archeological find. Study it and protect it.” He instructed.
I naturally said I would and drove back to the library with the parchment in the protective tube.
When I got back to the library and my apartment, I went directly to my work shop in the apartment where I could study the parchment with care and diligence.
I made a pot of coffee. Placed the hot mug on the table away from my work table. I still felt the need to protect the parchment diligently.
I worked into the early morning copying word for word what was written on the parchment.

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Here is what was written those many years ago.

30 May 1688

My name is Jacob Leister and it was prevailed upon me to write what I have learned from the native Indians called the Mohicans.
I have learned from the Ancient One, as he is called because he is so old and learned, that there is one spot in our newly constructed village of a spiritual nexus or doorway. But this spiritual nexus is not of good, but of evil.
This evil, the ancient One explained, emerges every thirty to forty years to feed on the people. It doesn’t feed on the peoples bodies, but rather their souls. It feeds on their fears. And every thirty or forty years people just disappeared never to be seen again.
Those who had disappeared and were able to return were said to have told others that they had met the most terrible and frightening evil they had ever met or could never even dream of in their worst nightmares. It was so evil.
It happened to us last year. Some of our most valued and respected citizens disappeared without cause.
At first it was speculated by the Reverend Edwards that it was the heathen Mohican Indians who were taking our beloved citizens.
I was given the task to talk to the tribal leaders of our missing people and learn if I could negotiate a deal to free them.

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I went to the tribal chiefs and they directed me to the Ancient One, who explained in detail how these disappearances occur every thirty or forty years. He told me the exact location of where this evil escapes from the confines of the earth below.
I explained what the Ancient One told me to the village leaders and the reverend. It was decided to build a structure on this site to seal this evil below ground. We will learn if this is sufficient to seal the evil into the earth and prevent it from escaping to feed upon the souls of the living. But we will not know for certain for another thirty or forty years. If I am still alive I will report on it’s success of failure.
Signed Jacob Liester.

That was what was written on the first old parchment I revived from the dead. I went back to Cornell to see Dr. Heathgrow and hopefully get more time in the archeological humidor for the next parchment I wanted to study.
When I got to his office, I showed him what I had transcribed from the first parchment. He was delighted with my study and work and forced the use of another humidor for the next parchment. Two weeks later I retrieved the parchment with the promise to Dr. Heathgrow that I would keep him informed of what I had learned.
The next parchment confirmed what Jacob Liester had written, but described the following events in more detail.
My name is Stanley Edwards, the grandson of the Reverend Edwards of Jacob Liester’s writings. I am sorry to say that Jacob died ten years after his writing of the evil he tried to

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describe and warn us about. Unfortunately he failed us as did the stone structure that was built over this evil nexus. The evil still feeds on our fears. I am afraid there is nothing we can do to prevent this evil. Even our prayers to God won’t help us. What are we to do? But we are safe for the next thirty or forty years. Thanks be to God.
Signed Stanley Edwards.

This parchment was short and brief, but it told of the evil that suffocated this village in the early years and continued to do so regularly since.
Each parchment I took to the Cornell archeological lab repeated what the first two parchments revealed. Then it became newspapers from the late seventeen hundreds almost to the present. My archeological mind was reeling with past information. As I read these old newspaper articles that I had preserved at Cornell University, I came away with the sick feeling that there was an evil with an insatiable appetite for human souls. This bothered me because the building that was originally constructed to seal this evil into the earth is the library above which I live. I was scared. Better yet, scared shitless, but what could I do?
Sleep at night was almost impossible because I feared the evil in the earth below the library. It had come to the point where I purchased crucifixes that I placed over every opening in the apartment, windows, doors and the attic flu. I took no chances. I even went to the local
Catholic church to get holy water. The priest found me scooping holy water into a small jar. I
had done this countless times, as I didn’t think I could have too much holy water. It was only a matter of time before a priest would catch me in my thievery of holy water

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I explained to the priest why I needed so much holy water. He agreed to bless a few cups of water to protect me from the evil of the earth. I think he even blessed the evil nexus. Though he couldn’t admit to it for obvious reasons.
With the holy water, I sprinkled it over every door, window or other openings and even cracks in the boards. I bought a cross to hang around my neck and even went so far to buy cloves of garlic. I knew this to be an old vampire protective herbs, but I was taking no chances.
And as it turned out none of these vampire protective measures worked in the least, as I was to learn late one night.

One night I couldn’t sleep, so I did what I normally did when I couldn’t sleep. I walked. I walked and walked trying my damndest to tire myself out. It was early morning about one or two o’clock and I walked around the entire village. I decided I would go back to my apartment and maybe sleep.
I had almost gotten to the library and apartment when I saw that shadowed dark, evil thing emerge from the ground of the library.
It was a being so evil, words could not describe it fully. But I will try. It was totally black. So black that it was darker than the night, the reason it could be seen so easily to my human eyes. It had eyes of burning coals and a hideous mouth. There were no teeth, but it was so hideous that you knew that it could engulf you with one swallow. It had no appendages. It was
just a black shapeless evil being that I knew I had to avoid. But I couldn’t because I thought if I confronted this evil, it would be defeated if not destroyed.

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I knew it fed on fear and I resolutely tried not o show any fear, though my heart was pounding like a sledge hammer when I looked into its eyes and it smiled. “I have you.”
“In your dreams maybe.” I stammered. “If you do dream.” I then made the sign of the cross and pulled the crucifix from my neck and held it in front of me as I walked to this evil thing of ages past.
Inconceivably it seemed to shrink back into the earth as I approached with the crucifix held in front of me. I don’t think it had ever met a human who could be so wanton and confront it physically.
Before it disappeared into the earth below, I threw the last vile of holy water into it and it seemed to shrivel and melt into the earth.
I think what had happened was that it had never met any human so unwilling to accept its weakness to force.
But how do I explain this to the residents of the community? That one has to be resolute with no fear when confronted with this being from hell. This is not something you teach to children in Sunday School.
I only have to find a way of destroying this demon from hell in the next thirty years. If I am still alive and the librarian of this library, I will try.
July 20, 2008
9:40 p.m.
@ P&G’s